The Marauders
by Marauder9744
Summary: The Marauders are in their fifth year at Hogwarts and are forced to deal with more than just their OWLs. Together, James, Sirius, Remus and Peter face excitement, adventure, danger and love, and all the while, a mysterious force is gaining power.


**Chapter 1**

**The Marauders**

**Disclaimer: I do not own James, Sirius, Remus or any character found in the Harry Potter novels. J.K. Rowling owns everything and I am only borrowing her ideas to play with for a while. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**A/N: **Well, I'm back. I've had this idea for a "Marauders-Era" story for quite some time now and I finally decided to get it going. For those of you reading my other story, "Harry Potter and the Serpent's Eye", don't worry, an update is coming soon there as well. Anyway, like I said, this new story is something I've been planning for a while now and it starts right before the Marauders head back to Hogwarts for their fifth year. I'd like to thank my beta, Katelyn, for all her help – I really appreciate it! Hope everyone enjoys!

Chapter 1 – The Marauders, Lily and a few other familiar faces deal with some expected (and possibly unexpected) challenges during the summer before their fifth year.

* * *

"James?"

James Potter opened his eyes and yawned.

He _had_ been asleep, lying comfortably underneath the cool sheets in his rather large four-poster bed. He looked at his watch. It read 2:17 PM.

_I suppose it's about time to wake up_, he thought to himself.

Stifling another yawn, James sat up on the edge of his bed. He stretched rather luxuriously, jumped off his bed and walked over to have a look at himself in his full length mirror.

What he saw, was a tall, skinny, rather handsome young man of fifteen. He moved closer to the mirror, running a hand over his cheek in the hope of finding at least a trace of some facial hair.

_It'll grow in eventually_, he thought to himself, deliberately messing up his hair before throwing on an old t-shirt, grabbing his glasses from the bed-side table and hurrying down the stairs.

"James?" The voice called again.

"Coming, Mum," James answered, reaching the bottom of the steps and turning right, towards the kitchen. As he rounded the corner he nearly ran into his father.

"Oh, sorry, son," his father said with a chuckle, managing to keep hold of his glass of lemonade and a copy of the _Daily Prophet_. "I think your mother wants to see, she's in the back room."

James nodded, still not fully awake, and walked through the kitchen and the dining room and into the back room where his father kept many of his old relics from his days at the Auror Office.

Sitting behind the desk, in his father's chair, with a duster in hand was his mother, Amalea Potter.

"There you are, James," she said, with a warm smile. "Were you up late last night?"

James smiled. He had been up fairly late the previous night, just as he had been late every night this past summer, working on his Animagus Transfiguration.

James, along with two of his best friends at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew, had been working on Animagus Transfiguration – an arduous and immensely complex process – so that they would be able to be with their other friend, Remus Lupin, during the unfortunate time of the month when he transformed into a werewolf – but this was a little too much information to share with his mother.

"Yeah, I couldn't sleep," he lied.

"You're not coming down with anything, are you?" she asked, dropping her duster, bustling over to him, and feeling his forehead with the back of her palm.

"No, I'm fine," James answered, feeling slightly annoyed.

While he loved both his parents very much, they did sometimes tend to fuss over him a little too much. He figured that that could only be expected though, seeing as he was an only child and they weren't exactly young anymore.

He smiled at his mother and she smiled back.

"Well, your father and I will be heading into Diagon Alley shortly to get your school books and I was wondering if there was anything else you needed?"

"Actually, do you think I could come with you?" James asked, thinking of certain spell books he'd be able to purchase that might be able to help him with the Animagus Transfigurations.

"Sure," his mother replied, sounding slightly taken aback. "Go on upstairs and get ready."

James grinned, turned and hurried back up to his room.

* * *

Peter Pettigrew sat silently at his kitchen table, his eyes fixed on his lunch.

"I just don't see how you can lie round here all day, doin' nuthin', while I'm out bustin' my rear-end trying to make enough money to put food on the table," his step-father, Pilate, said angrily, food spraying out of his mouth.

"I don't sit…"

"Don't give me that rubbish," Pilate spat. "Ever since your mum died you've done nuthin' but mope around, feelin' sorry for yerself. And she died what, two years ago?"

"A year and a half," Peter mumbled, playing with his cold porridge.

Pilate snorted in disgust.

Peter's mother, Phoebe Pettigrew, had been a very kind, loving mother. Peter's biological father, Paul, died just after Peter's seventh birthday and Phoebe had married Pilate just a year later.

Then, almost seven years after Paul's death, Phoebe too fell ill and passed away. This left Peter in the care of Pilate, who did not care much for his small, chubby, pasty step-son.

Pilate, who worked six days a week as a maintenance employee at the Ministry of Magic, also worked nights at a Muggle department store. This made him a laughingstock amongst his co-workers at the Ministry and he took out a lot of this anger on Peter.

Peter did not care for Pilate much either and had spent most of the summer alone at the house, by himself. It had been more than two months since he had seen James, Sirius or Remus and he was beginning to feel, as he sometimes did, a little resentful towards his best friends.

"Can't say I'm surprised," Pilate continued. "What else would you do? Good fer nuthin' little rats like you don't have friends anyway."

Peter suppressed his anger and looked back down at his meal.

"I suppose not," he mumbled.

* * *

"I can't say how proud I am of you, dear," Valerie Lupin cried happily, throwing her arms around her son. "A Hogwarts Prefect!"

"Hush, Val," Remus' father, Rudy, said, laying a hand on his wife's shoulder. He turned to Remus. "Congratulations, son."

Remus smiled back at his parents happy faces.

They were all standing in their small, well lit, kitchen. Remus' mother Valerie, a caring, bright, kind Muggle school teacher, on his left and Remus' father Rudy, a middle-aged Ministry wizard, on his right. They had just received the news the Remus had been chosen as the Gryffindor Prefect.

"Thanks, dad," Remus replied.

Remus lived a quiet, normal life at home with his parents. The only exception to this would be every month when he transforms into a fully-fledged werewolf.

His parents had always tried their hardest to help him, but seeing as they are unable to be with him during his transformations, there was little that they could do.

Despite this however, Remus was happy. He had three wonderful friends at school and had just been named Prefect. Ever since seeing the letter earlier that morning, Remus had been wondering who the other Gryffindor Prefect would be. Remus got along fairly well with almost all of the fifth year Gryffindor girls, with one minor exception – Carlion Dearborn.

Remus was not one to dislike anyone, but Dearborn was a rare exception. Her older brother, Caradoc, was a seventh year whom Remus got along fairly well with, but there was just something about Carlion that Remus did not like. Sirius said that it was because she was better than him at Defense Against the Dark Arts, but that wasn't the reason – at least not the whole reason.

She was bossy, standoffish and certainly wasn't the friendliest person at Hogwarts – even Lily Evans didn't like her and Lily was the type of girl who could see the good in everyone.

Remus smiled. While he didn't have a real reason for disliking Carlion, except for the fact that she was completely intolerable, Lily certainly did.

It had been only a few months ago when, on the train ride back home from Hogwarts, Lily and Carlion had gotten into an argument:

_"You don't think I hate Potter too?" Lily hissed, standing across from Carlion in one of the train compartments._

_James, Remus, Sirius and Pettigrew were in the hallway, staring in through the glass door, as were close to fifteen other students._

_"Rubbish," Carlion roared back. "I heard you the other night muttering in your sleep. 'Oh, James… Oh, James'."_

_Lily turned bright red, as did James who was standing right next to Remus, lifted her chin up, turned quietly and ripped open the compartment door._

_The sea of students parted and she strode out down the hall towards the back of the train._

_"Is James the only one you moan about in your sleep, Evans?" Sirius called down after her, as the surrounding crowd howled in laughter. Lily did not respond, however, aside from the slight stiffening of her shoulders, but kept walking down the hall._

_Sirius turned back to his friends and Remus gave him a reproachful look, but he merely shrugged it off._

_James deliberately messed up his hair and stuck his head into the compartment where Carlion stood fuming._

_"Did she say anything else or was it just my name?"_

_Sirius laughed._

_"Oh, piss off," Carlion retorted, pushing James away and slamming the door shut._

Okay, maybe Remus had some small idea as to why Carlion disliked the Marauders, but either way, he certainly hoped that she wasn't the other Gryffindor Prefect.

* * *

"Well, who else do you think it could be?"

Lily Evans was walking briskly down the street, her long, thick, dark red hair blowing behind her. Walking stride for stride with her was Severus Snape. He was dressed in all black despite the warm summer sun and his greasy black hair fell in a dark curtain around his face.

Lily and Snape had been very close ever since they were both young and, on this particular day, were headed down to the river to enjoy a picnic lunch that Lily had made.

"I mean, I assume that Remus made Prefect," Lily continued, as they turned a corner, the river coming into view. "He is the most sensible one, after all."

Snape scowled.

"Lupin is… passable as a Prefect I suppose," he answered curtly. "His disappearances are becoming more and more mysterious though."

Lily looked at him out of the corner of her eye with a smile.

"Remus is harmless," she said, stepping onto the grass. "His taste in friends is a little suspect, but he's nice enough. And he's amazing at Defense… he helped me out quite a lot last year at least. I don't think I could have made it through that class without him."

"Defense Against the Dark Arts isn't that hard," Snape said, more to himself than to Lily.

They found a nice patch of grass and sat down.

"I just don't know who the other Gryffindor Prefect could be," Lily said, pulling out two handmade sandwiches and handing one to Snape.

"I would have thought Dumbledore would have given it to you," Snape answered, taking a bite out of his food.

Lily shrugged.

She had certainly hoped to become Prefect, but there was definitely stiff competition.

"Do you think Mary?"

"MacDonald?" Snape asked, raising his eyebrows. "I don't think so."

Lily shrugged again.

Mary MacDonald, one of the fifth year Gryffindor girls, had always been fairly close to Lily, but really wasn't the Prefect type. She was the type to misplace quills, forget to turn in homework assignments and she was the type to fall for guys like Sirius Black – a big mistake in Lily's book.

"What about Kelsey?"

Alice Kelsey Branker, known by her middle name and another of the Gryffindor fifth year girls, was one of Lily's closest friends. She was usually quiet and soft spoken and was by far one of the nicest girls at Hogwarts. The short, skinny, bespectacled brunette was often overlooked, however, usually overshadowed by her other friends.

"I don't know," Snape replied. "I suppose she's a good candidate… as is Dearborn."

"Don't get me started on Dearborn," Lily said, her eyes narrowing slightly. "I can't stand her."

Snape let a small smile cross his lips.

"She is qualified though."

"I suppose she is… Remus would not be too pleased if he was stuck with her all year though, I'll tell you that," Lily added with a chuckle.

Snape didn't laugh.

"Do you know who the other Slytherin Prefect is that you'll be working with?" Lily asked, taking a sip from her water bottle.

"Not yet," Snape replied, absentmindedly rubbing the new Prefect's badge he had clipped to the front of his jacket. "Avery's the sixth year Prefect though."

Lily frowned.

"I don't like Avery," she said. "He's cruel."

"Avery's harmless," Snape replied with another small smile. "He just gets carried away sometimes."

Lily shrugged for the third time.

"I don't know," she said with a sigh. "It'll be good to be back though."

She stood up, brushed herself off and then offered her hand to Snape.

* * *

Sirius Black walked briskly down the moonlight lane, his long, dark hair billowing behind him.

He turned a corner and continued walking, glancing down at his watch every few seconds.

_Great_, he thought, frowning, _I'll never hear the end of this one_.

He rounded another corner and hurried up the front steps of number twelve, Grimmauld Place. Sirius reached for the door knob and slowly opened the wooden front door with a quiet creak.

He stepped softly into the entrance hall and his boots clicked innocently on the newly polished oak floors. The crystal chandelier glittered softly high above, its dim glow the only source of light in the house.

Sirius let out a soft sigh of relief… _They're asleep_.

He walked ever so quietly down the length of the entrance hall, towards the staircase. Sirius reached the stairs and took them two at a time, trying his best to hurry up to his room as quietly and as quickly as possible. He did not want to have to see his mother again – especially after the previous night's events.

He passed his parents' room on the third floor without making a sound and then sped up the steps to the fourth floor. He hurried along and had almost reached his bedroom door when he heard a small _hmmph_ from behind him.

He spun around.

"Look, I was only – oh, it's you."

There, standing lazily in his doorway, was Sirius' brother, Regulus Black.

Regulus, a year younger than Sirius, had the same dark black hair as his brother, but wore it shorter and combed to one side.

"Were you out with that… Muggle… again?" Regulus asked, a look of obvious disgust on his face.

"It's none of your business where I spend my time, Regulus. Now, if you'll kindly excuse me, I'm going to bed."

"Mum won't be pleased that you were with her again," Regulus said, still standing in the doorway.

He was skinny, pale and not quite as tall as Sirius, though he did have a strange sense of fierceness about him.

"I could care less whether your mother is pleased with me or not, Regulus," Sirius snapped back, taking one step towards his younger brother.

"Careful," Regulus said, standing his ground as a small smile found its way onto his pale, haughty face. "We wouldn't want to wake her."

Sirius said nothing, trying his best to hold his tongue.

"We wouldn't want another yelling match now would we?" Regulus continued, trying to egg Sirius on. "Especially not one as bad as we had last night, wouldn't you agree?"

Sirius still remained silent.

"I'm quite sure that I remember my mother expressly forbidding you from seeing that Muggle ever again."

"I don't need you to remind me what she said, I can remember it fine by myself, thank you very much," Sirius responded acidly. "Now, why don't you turn around, go back into your room and go to sleep so you can dream about Mary MacDonald some more."

Regulus was no longer smiling.

He looked Sirius up and down very slowly and, with pursed lips and a small shake of his head, turned around and slammed the door shut as loud as possible.

Sirius turned quickly and hurried into his room, praying that Regulus hadn't woken his sleeping mother.

* * *

"What do you have for me, Lucius?"

Lucius Malfoy stood up from his chair and cleared his throat.

"My Lord, Avery, Rookwood and I have _acquired_ the services of two Ministry officials," Malfoy replied, taking extra care to emphasize _acquired_ and allow for a few of the surrounding Death Eaters to cackle demonically. "Stephen Croaker and Rolf Savage, both of the Department of Mysteries, are at your command."

Lord Voldemort, sitting at the head of a long polished wood table, gave Malfoy a small nod.

"Thank you, Lucius," he said silkily, standing up and moving slowly around the table. "And I must also thank you again for so willingly allowing us to use your new home for these… meetings. I'm sure your late father would have been most proud."

Lucius nodded back, though by the look on his face, it didn't seem like he agreed with what Voldemort had just said.

"I trust there was no trouble," Voldemort continued, still walking slowly down one side of the table.

"None what so ever, my Lord," Lucius replied swiftly, "despite Karkaroff's lapse in awareness."

Igor Karkaroff, sitting a few seats down from when Voldemort stood muttered the beginnings of a protest, but Voldemort cut him off.

"Quiet, Igor," he hissed softly, moving down the table slightly so that he was now directly behind Karkaroff. "This is now the second time that your carelessness has nearly cost us. I will not tolerate a third."

"Yes, my Lord," Karkaroff said quickly.

Voldemort turned and headed back to the head of the table as Karkaroff let out a sigh of relief.

"And what about my request?" Voldemort asked slowly, once he reached the front of the room again. "The Ministry is in disarray and will fall soon enough, but we cannot afford for Hogwarts to come running to the Ministry's aid. The only way for us to achieve ultimate victory is to knock Dumbledore off of his lofty perch and the only way to do this is to have someone inside of Hogwarts."

The drawing room fell silent.

"Not one of you can think any way to get a Death Eater inside Hogwarts?" Voldemort asked slowly, his voice dripping with quiet venom.

Still the Death Eaters remained silent.

Then, from out of the shadows at the back of the room near the door came a women's voice, high pitched and devilishly malevolent.

"My Lord, I have just the man you're looking for."


End file.
